Court Martialled - Part Four
by Ali3
Summary: The jury meets to decide upon a verdict. (Sorry this part is so late!) Please review.


Sorry this part is so late - I'm back at school now, and I had to write a history essay before. (I did consider posting that instead, but thought you might not appreciate it!) Well, to make up for being late, this part is the longest so far, and I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to Karen Lewis for all her help and ideas. And thank you, everyone who reviewed Part One, Two or Three. Whether you did or not, please review this part! 

**Disclaimer:**None of the characters are mine and I'm not making any money from this. 

  


**Court Martialled - Part Four**

by Ali 

"Well," said Fowler, standing up, "If defence has nothing furthur to add . . ." 

"Oh!" said Babs, "Wait! We haven't finished yet - I've still got some more to say." 

"Very well." Fowler sat back down. "Proceed." 

"We . . . I mean, I . . . well, I just wanted to say that Rocky is really very nice, and he never meant to do anything to hurt anyone. And I'm sure he won't do it again." She looked at Rocky. 

"Mmpf!" Rocky pointed, with a wingful of wool, to the beak warmer he was wearing. "Mmm umfufh!" He pushed the wool back through the bars of the cage to Babs, and removed the beak warmer. 

"She's right, you know," he said, eagerly. "I didnt mean to . . . and I won't do it again, really . . ." 

"Silence!" said Fowler. "Babs is stating the case for the defence, not you." 

"Oh." 

Babs handed the wool and knitting back to Rocky. 

"If there are no more interruptions," said Fowler, "the jury are ready to meet and decide upon a verdict." 

"Uh . . ." said Babs. 

Fowler sighed, impatiently. "You have something to add, what?" 

Babs shook her head. "Um, no." 

"Then, if the jury would follow me . . ." 

Fowler and twelve hens walked off to behind the old bird house. "We will reconvene shortly," Fowler said as he went. 

Babs retrieved her wool and continued knitting. 

"But . . . that's not fair!" said Rocky. "Fowler's the judge - he shouldn't be talking with the jury." 

Ginger shrugged. "It's his court martial. He knows the protocol, we don't." 

Rocky glared at her. "It was your idea! If you'd just kept your big beak shut . . ." 

"If you weren't a stuck-up, self-opinionated, chavanistic Yank, then you wouldn't be in trouble!" 

"Calm down, Gingah," said Mac, "You're attracting a crowd." 

Ginger looked around and saw that Mac was right. Several hens had drifted toward them, and others were following. 

She walked away, and sat back down next to Mac. 

"Fine!" shouted Rocky, "Go ahead - ignore me!" 

_Thanks - I will._ Ginger turned around to talk to Mac. "How did my case sound?" 

"Very good - Rocky doesna have a chance." 

_Why am I sorry to hear that? _

Because you're supposed to be his friend. 

It's his fault. Friend or not, he can't steal from us. 

"Gingah? You gone ta sleep or something?" 

Ginger blinked. "No - I was just thinking." 

"About Rocky?" 

Ginger was saved from having to answer by a hen who came around the bird house and yelled, "Mac!" 

"Aye? Are you wanting me, then?" Mac followed her. 

"Ginger!" Rocky shouted. He was still holding a ball of wool for Babs. "Hello-oh! Ginger!" 

She walked up to the cage. "What?" she snapped. Rocky retreated as far as possible. _I don't look _that_ scary, do I?_

Rocky lowered his voice. "Listen," he said, "why don't you just let me out? You know, and then I could just . . . uh . . . lie low for a while, 'till the rest of them calm down a little." 

"No." 

"Please? Pretty please? Ginger . . ." 

"No!" 

"Oh dear," said Babs, who was standing knitting nearby, "Perhaps you should both go on holiday - then you might feel better." 

Ginger shook her head. "I don't think so." 

* * *

"Hem!" said Fowler," The jury are ready to give their verdict." 

Rocky sank back against the bars. "Oh no . . ." he whispered. 

"However," continued Fowler, "First, we would like to speak to Nick and Fetcher." 

There was a general hunt round for the two rats, who soon appeared of their own accord. 

"Well?" said Nick, "You wanted us? Anything we can get for you?" 

Fowler ignored the question. "Nick and Fetcher," he said, "It has come to our attention that you intend to start a chicken farm." 

"Yes, that's right. Why . . . you offering to donate some eggs?" 

"Or chickens," said Fetcher, "We need chickens before we can get eggs." 

"No! First the eggs - that's where the chickens come from." 

"Silence!" said Fowler. "Mac?" 

Mac pushed her way towards the front of the crowd. "I believe that you have not considered th' full logistics of such a complex undertaking," she said, and held out a sheet of paper to them. Nick examined it, looking bemused. 

"Uh," he said. 

Mac ignored him and continued. "You will find that th' initial and subsequent monetary requirements will far outweigh any profits that you will recieve. You have failed to acknowledge th' cost for feeding the hens and for providing suitable nesting accomodation. You would also need to employ someone to ensure that th' chickens remained in captivity - not an easy job!" 

There were some giggles from the crowd. 

"Yeah, yeah, alright," said Nick, "So maybe now you could repeat all that so we could understand it?" 

Mac looked put out. "And wasna I clear the first time? I said that if you try to run a chicken farm, you'd lose money on it. There, is that simple enough?" 

"How would you know?" asked Nick, suspiciously. 

"You want me to go through the figures?" 

"No!" said Nick, "No, that's OK." He sighed. "I guess you're right - there must be some easier way to make money." 

"Now that's settled," said Fowler, "We come to . . ." 

"Just a minute!" said Bunty. "We - " she indicated herself and several other hens, " - think that it is only fair for the rats to be payed. We'd like to give them the five eggs they were promised, unfertilised, of course." 

_What!_

"Very well," said Fowler. 

Nick rubbed his paws together in anticipation. 

"Give it to them, girls!" shouted Bunty. 

Simultaneously, five eggs hurtled through the air towards Nick and Fetcher, landing bang on target. "Gotcha!" said Bunty. 

"Aaah!" yelled Nick, "Stoppit!" He and Fetcher ran for the cover of the trees, and disappeared into the forest. 

Ginger laughed until her sides hurt, and so did the other hens. Even Fowler smiled slightly, then banged his hammer on a stone. "Order! Order!" 

The giggles and chatter stopped. 

"It is now time for the jury to give their verdict." 

One of the jury-members handed him an envelope. Fowler opened it and took out a slip of paper. 

"Guilty," he said, "A unanimous decicion." It was what Ginger had expected. 

"And now - the sentence." 

Rocky shuddered. "Ginger!" he whispered, "Do something!" 

Ginger shook her head. "Whatever he says - you deserve it." 

* * *

  
  
Only one more part to go, guys! And it's only three weeks since I saw the movie :-). 

Please review - or email [alison.hale@lineone.net][1] with any suggestions, critisism, comments, questions or whatever. If you have an astoundingly brilliant (or even quite ordinary) idea, then this is your last chance to give it to me! > Part Five may take a while - depends on the homework situation. I'll do my best! And, remember, I'll be more encouraged to write if I get lots of reviews . . . :-) 

ML>

   [1]: mailto:alison.hale@lineone.net



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